Messianism – Rabbi Michael Avraham – Lecture 2

Table of Contents

• [0:03] Introduction: the Hanukkah topic and lighting versus placing
• [1:23] The students’ reactions and the pushback
• [2:27] Kedushat Levi and the connection to the Talmud
• [3:34] The problem with the interpretation about joy in a commandment
• [7:35] The dispute in the Talmud: lighting versus placing
• [9:10] The value of Hasidism in states of depression
• [20:40] What counts as Torah study?
• [22:13] Summary: reading literature and deriving insights
• [24:41] The difference between learning and subconscious awareness
• [25:50] Neglect of Torah study in quality terms – reading the Megillah
• [27:20] Torah versus other wisdoms – the view of the Bnei Yissaschar
• [28:34] Postmodern literature and Hasidism – two components
• [30:07] Is everything in Hasidism actually Hasidism?
• [34:32] Jacob and working seven years – meaning
• [37:25] Messianism as fact – questions of authority

Summary

Overview

The text describes a joint study session at Bar-Ilan on the Hanukkah topic of “if it went out, one need not attend to it” and “the lighting performs the commandment,” and the confrontation over incorporating Hasidic teachings as an interpretation of the passage. The speaker argues that such teachings, like those of Kedushat Levi, are games of allusion that detach the Talmud from its meaning and add no understanding, and at most sometimes function as a therapeutic or moral tool that is not “Torah study.” He formulates a principled distinction between Torah as a binding norm and factual or psychological components that serve as instruments for a commandment, and expands this into a definition of learning as a cognitive process that a person does, not something done to him. In the end he connects this to an earlier discussion about authority regarding facts and principles of faith, and places the question of messianism as a factual question.

The joint study session at Bar-Ilan and the reactions to the post

The speaker teaches an advanced group of doctoral students at Bar-Ilan, and a former student teaches a beginners’ group, and he proposes a joint session because she disagrees with him about Hasidism. The speaker teaches the passage, and she brings two or three Hasidic teachings to deal with his claims, and he thinks they actually illustrate his criticism very well. The speaker describes how many of the students do not hold a position because they are not involved with Hasidism, and those who did react pushed back and were angry about what he wrote in the post. The speaker notes that he read 111 comments on the post and that some of them included his own replies.

The Hanukkah topic: the lighting performs the commandment, the placing performs the commandment, and if it went out one need not attend to it

The speaker presents the Talmudic discussion of whether the lighting performs the commandment or the placing performs the commandment, and the practical differences such as the need to light in the proper place versus lighting elsewhere and transferring it to the place of the commandment. The speaker says that the Shulchan Arukh links the dispute to the question “if it went out, one need not attend to it” and argues that since the lighting performs the commandment, therefore if the lamp goes out there is no need to relight it. The speaker argues that the plain sense of the Talmud does not link the two issues, and that their connection in the Shulchan Arukh does not arise from the plain meaning of the passage.

Kedushat Levi on Hanukkah and the criticism of Hasidic homiletics

The speaker cites Kedushat Levi of Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, an interpretation of the blessing “Blessed are You, Lord… to kindle the Hanukkah light,” according to which the essence of a person’s service in prayer and in Torah and in commandments is to become inflamed with love and longing through contemplation and deepening one’s understanding. The speaker sees the claim that the essence of the service is enthusiasm as problematic, and argues that the essence of the service is to do the service, even if joy has value. The speaker discusses the verse “because you did not serve the Lord your God with joy and gladness of heart” and presents it as a difficult verse, while mentioning various little homiletic explanations and expressing reservations about interpretations that overload it.

The speaker describes how Kedushat Levi interprets “the lighting performs the commandment” as enthusiasm and joy, and “the placing performs the commandment” as doing the commandment even in a state of constricted consciousness, without enthusiasm, and adds an allusion from “he put on phylacteries” as a language of placing. The speaker argues that this is trivial and contains no novelty, and that it has no connection to what the Talmud meant, and therefore in his view it is “complete nonsense.” The speaker argues that the homily erases the existence of the dispute in the Talmud by saying that there is no dispute, but rather “these and those are the words of the living God,” and he sees this as a disconnection from the passage and a replacement of it with wordplay. The speaker says that even if the homily was meant as a textual support, it is a support for something trivial, and he does not understand what is learned from it or why it is supposed to persuade someone who was not already convinced.

The therapeutic value of Hasidic teachings versus their status as Torah study

The speaker describes a student who argued that the passage from Kedushat Levi has “enormous value” because it can bring in joy and help a person in depression return to things. The speaker says he does not understand how the passage personally brings him joy, but he accepts that there are people for whom it is helpful. The speaker argues that psychological usefulness or inspiration for commandments do not turn a text into “Torah study,” and compares it to a tool like a pill that can change a person’s mood and help in serving God without being considered study. He defines this as part of the claim in the post about the therapeutic value of such things, and distinguishes between an important “instrument of a commandment” and Torah study.

Studying ethics, fear of Heaven, and Nefesh HaChaim

The speaker argues that the study of ethics, for the most part, is not Torah study, even though it may be important for serving God. The speaker cites Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin in Nefesh HaChaim, Gate 4, who distinguishes between fear of God and study, and describes fear of God as a “treasury” or “storehouse” into which one places the “grain,” which is the study. The speaker emphasizes that fear of God is an important commandment but is not itself Torah study, and concludes that not everything of value is Torah study.

Torah as norm versus facts: experiments, psychology, and presumptions in Bava Batra

The speaker presents a distinction between “the normative aspect,” which is Torah, and “the factual aspect,” which is not Torah, and illustrates this with someone conducting a scientific experiment to clarify a topic about light on the Sabbath, who in his view is dealing with an instrument of a commandment and not Torah study. The speaker discusses the topic “a person does not repay before his time” and explains that the study is not the psychological fact itself, but rather the principle that a presumption extracts money, whereas determining which presumption is correct is a factual matter that can change and also belongs to psychology. The speaker argues that facts are the medium for applying the norm, but are not themselves Torah study, and again stresses that the distinction is categorical and not an evaluation of importance.

What learning is: a cognitive process versus something done to a person

The speaker defines Torah study as a cognitive process in which a person thinks, defines concepts, analyzes, internalizes, and reaches conclusions, whether in broad study or in analytical study. The speaker argues that if a person receives Torah through hypnosis so that the information is in him, that is not Torah study, because it is not a process that he does, even if the result is broad knowledge. The speaker distinguishes between insights produced because a text or an experience “works on you” and insights produced through reflection and analysis, and determines that not every production of insights is learning. He applies this also to stories and poetry, and argues that reading that works in some quasi-magical or emotional way is not learning, and that even literary analysis of a story like Agnon is not Torah study, even if it contains insights.

Aggadah, stories of righteous figures, and Yeshivat Makor Chaim

The speaker describes an experience at Yeshivat Makor Chaim in which a lecture by the head of the yeshiva is devoted for three quarters of an hour to a story of Rabbi Nachman, with pauses for interpretation, and he describes how in practice they never reach the end of the story. The speaker says that one can learn significant things from a story, but he objects to declaring that this is necessarily Torah if Torah meanings were not extracted from it through study. The speaker argues that studying the aggadic passages of the Talmud as mere familiarity with details about “Rabbah bar bar Chana” and the like is not Torah study if one is not learning the Torah meanings and lessons, and he agrees that study with commentaries like Maharsha can be Torah study when one extracts Torah content from them.

Hasidism: between real study and modern existentialism

The speaker argues that the original Hasidim did not study Hasidism the way it is studied today in an “existentialist” manner that looks for experiences, psychology, and subjective meaning, and he sees this as taking things out of their meaning. The speaker says that when Hasidism is studied as ethics he has no argument, but according to his claim that is not Torah study. He distinguishes between “Hasidic Torah” as a character of Torah and a text said by a Hasidic rebbe, and argues that not everything said by a rebbe is Hasidic Torah, attributing the statement to the Pnei Menachem.

The Bnei Yissaschar, versions in the Midrash, and Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin

The speaker cites that the Bnei Yissaschar argues that there is value in Torah even when the learner’s conclusion is not correct in terms of ultimate truth, and presents versions in the midrash, “what an experienced student will one day innovate” versus “what an experienced student will mistakenly innovate,” which “the Holy One, blessed be He, showed Moses at Sinai.” The speaker says that Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin brings similar ideas. The speaker argues that such teachings are not unique to Hasidism and that one cannot draw conclusions about Hasidism itself merely because they appear in a Hasidic book.

Postmodernism, Rabbi Shagar, and translation versus nonsense

The speaker describes a position he expressed in a lecture on Rabbi Shagar’s book “Tablets and Broken Tablets,” according to which postmodern literature has two components: ideas with meaning that can be translated into modern language, and the use of postmodern language, which is sometimes intellectual laziness and an unwillingness to define things all the way through. The speaker adds a third, practical component of “nonsense” and says that the value of the book depends on the dosage of the first component. He applies this to Hasidic books and argues that they contain valuable ideas that can be translated into another language, alongside many parts that are nonsense when they cannot be translated.

Chabad as orderly study versus typical Hasidism

The speaker says that Chabad is an exception, and although he is unsympathetic to the group, he sees very beautiful things there that are “actual study-study.” The speaker describes a collection of essays from Tomchei Temimim of Kfar Chabad written by young students, and emphasizes that they are orderly, define concepts, and analyze, and do not rely on “existentialist hallucinations.” The speaker tells a story about the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe who interpreted “an innocuous ox” and “a forewarned ox” as corresponding to the good inclination and the evil inclination, and about Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s response that from his perspective this is “heresy” if it comes instead of the meaning of the Talmud, and the speaker argues that there is no need to understand this as negating the plain halakhic meaning; rather it adds a parallel layer. The speaker emphasizes that Kedushat Levi also probably studied the Talmud in its plain sense, but he still thinks that the parallel Hasidic counting or layering adds nothing and in fact detracts.

The plain meaning in Torah versus Kedushat Levi and the value of facts in a sacred text

The speaker gives an example that surprised him, that Jacob worked seven years in order to receive Rachel and not fourteen, and raises the question of what one learns from such a fact beyond the plain meaning. The speaker argues that in the Torah there is holiness in the object itself, because the Holy One, blessed be He, wrote it, and therefore even studying the facts written there counts as Torah study even if it does not add much to the practical or spiritual world. The speaker argues that Kedushat Levi has no parallel holiness, and therefore if studying it does not teach something real but is only games, it has no value as study.

Moving to messianism: authority regarding facts and principles of faith

The speaker concludes by moving to the topic of messianism, and mentions a previous discussion about authority regarding facts and principles of faith. The speaker determines that Maimonides’ principles are beliefs whose subject is facts, such as divine providence, the coming of the Messiah, and Torah from Heaven, even if they are not available to empirical observation. The speaker formulates that the central question is how far authority is relevant in this kind of factual claim. He presents the question of whether a person is the Messiah or not as a factual matter, even if there are not always clear indications by which to decide.

With the doctoral students at Bar-Ilan, we studied a Hanukkah passage: “If it went out, you are not required to relight it,” and “the lighting performs the commandment.” And I have two groups. One is a former student of mine—she was even here for a certain period of time. She teaches the beginners’ group, and I teach the more advanced group, and she does a few things with me. She doesn’t agree with me about Hasidism and all that, so I said to her: on the contrary, let’s do a joint study session now. Today we did a joint session for both groups. What was the point of what you wrote in the post? We did a joint session for the two groups: I would teach the passage, and you would bring Hasidic teachings, and we’d see what they have to say about this passage. So I taught the passage, and afterward she brought two or three such Hasidic teachings, and it was very interesting. I think that’ll be my next post—those two Hasidic teachings there illustrate exactly what I said, and it’s interesting because she specifically chose them in order to deal with what I said, and I think they simply illustrate it extremely well. What were the students’ reactions? Look, most of them didn’t have a position, because a large part of them don’t deal with these things, with Hasidism, and those who do, of course, objected. There was anger. Some of them were very… They objected to what you wrote in your post? Yes. In my opinion, the passages brought today really—I’ll give you an example, I even have this page here with me, I thought maybe it would come up. There is in Kedushat Levi by Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev. I lost it, I lost it. No, it’s not here, it’s on the website. But if too many discussions came up about it then… Read the post, I’ll read the post. There, because I left this afternoon, I had read 111 comments. Some of the comments are also the number of times I replied in return, right? Yes yes, fine. In any case, I don’t know, I really don’t understand how you have time to answer everyone. So in Kedushat Levi by Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev, he writes on these passages—as you know, the Talmud discusses whether the lighting performs the commandment or the placing performs the commandment. If the lighting performs the commandment, then you have to light it in place; if the placing performs the commandment, you can light it elsewhere and move it to the place. There are various practical differences the Talmud brings on this issue. The Shulchan Arukh also ties this to the question of whether, if it went out, you are not required to relight it. He argues that because the lighting performs the commandment, therefore if it went out you are not required to relight it—that is, if the candle went out, you don’t need to light it again. In the plain meaning of the Talmud there’s no connection whatsoever between those two things; the Shulchan Arukh connects them in some way. That’s what I spoke about in the Talmud class. So she brought here the Kedushat Levi, where Rabbi Levi Yitzhak says as follows: “Blessed are You, Lord… to light the Hanukkah candle”—now it is known that the main service of a person in prayer and Torah and commandments is for his soul and heart to be inflamed toward God with love and wondrous longing by contemplating God’s greatness with deep thought, and then his soul will be inflamed toward God with pleasantness and sweetness. What is the goal? The enthusiasm. That sentence itself is already, in my eyes, really problematic. Meaning, the main service of a person in prayer is to get enthusiastic? The main service is to do the service. It may be that there is also value in enthusiasm, fine, okay, but even that seems to me a bit overblown. True, there is that verse, “Because you did not serve the Lord your God with joy and gladness of heart,” which is a difficult verse, because it seems from there that all the great punishments we receive are because we did not serve with joy and gladness of heart. And as is known, there are all kinds of little interpretations on this from the non-Hasidic camp that give Hasidic interpretations. The plain meaning of the verse really does seem to point in the Hasidic direction. But what is the plain meaning of the verse? “Because you did not serve the Lord your God with joy and gladness of heart”—for that you deserve all these insane punishments? So I wasn’t happy, so what happened? The plain meaning of the verse is not that you did not serve God joyfully, that you served Him without joy, but that you had the opportunity to serve Him joyfully and did not do so. Meaning, that you did not serve Him at all. No, but “because you did not serve the Lord your God when you had every good thing”—you had all the conditions for it to be comfortable and joyful and you didn’t do it. That doesn’t seem to me to be the simple plain meaning of the verse. I know the well-known little interpretations: “because you did not serve”—and you did that non-service joyfully, and for that you get hit. Fine, but those are Hasidic little interpretations by the Lithuanians. The truth is that the verse really is difficult. On that I agree, but okay. In any case, so he claims this is the main service of a person, and then he moves to “the lighting performs the commandment” and “the placing performs the commandment.” “As is known regarding the joy of a commandment, that the main thing is to do each and every commandment with love and great longing and tremendous enthusiasm.” Let’s see why that is the main thing. “And this is the explanation of the blessing, ‘Blessed are You, Lord… to light,’ that we praise and glorify God who chose us as His treasured people to perform His commandments with ignition and with tremendous enthusiasm, like a flame rising on its own. However, sometimes the dulled heart and mind of a person make it difficult, such that he cannot perform the commandment with enthusiasm and longing. For this reason, God forbid, he should not refrain from performing the commandment, but rather perform the commandment calmly. The lighting performs the commandment and the placing performs the commandment.” Lighting is the enthusiasm, and placing is if you’re in a state of constricted consciousness, so to speak, then do it even without enthusiasm. Fine. First of all, this is trivial of course. If you innovate that the main point is joy, and then you have an additional innovation that if you’re not joyful you should nevertheless do the commandment—don’t say the first innovation and you won’t need the second innovation. It’s obvious that you need to do the commandment even if you’re not joyful. For the Rabbi this is supposedly not trivial? What? Maybe at certain points not. Were there Jews who didn’t think so? I don’t know who didn’t think so, other than a few people who take things out of their plain meaning. I don’t understand how one can not think so. Fine, but to exclude those people. Okay, I don’t know. “And this is the explanation of the Sifrei brought in Rashi”—never mind, he brings more here—“that you should perform the commandments even at a time of repose.” Meaning, when you don’t have expanded consciousness to do them with enthusiasm and with ignition. “The lighting performs the commandment” is the enthusiasm, and “the placing performs the commandment” is the constricted consciousness. Even so, you should perform the commandments. “And this is ‘put on tefillin’”—the word “put on” is from the language of placing. “Put on tefillin,” okay. Meaning, even at a time of placing, perform the commandments of tefillin and mezuzot so that they will not be new to you, so that you will be accustomed in your traits. The whole reason you should do it when you’re not enthusiastic is only so that you’ll be accustomed—just as Nachmanides writes about the commandments outside the Land of Israel: “Set up markers for yourselves,” so that we should know and not forget to perform the commandments when we return to the land. So he says the same thing at a time of placing, when we are not enthusiastic: essentially one does not need to perform the commandments then; the whole point is just that we remember, that we not forget to do it when the expanded consciousness returns to us. And he says: “And in this the dispute between the two opinions is understood: one said the lighting performs the commandment, and one said the placing performs the commandment. And in truth both and those are the words of the living God… and they do not disagree. For the one who said the lighting performs the commandment means that ideally a person should perform the commandment with ignition and enthusiasm and wondrous longing. And the one who said the placing performs the commandment means that sometimes, when he falls from his level and does not have expanded consciousness, he should not refrain from performing the commandment, God forbid, but rather do it in a state of placing, meaning even without enthusiasm.” Yes? So what is he basically saying? There is no dispute here at all. No dispute, but what then? “The lighting performs the commandment” means that you need to do it with enthusiasm, and “the placing performs the commandment” means that even when you don’t have enthusiasm, you should still perform the commandments. The Talmud says there is a dispute whether the lighting performs the commandment or the placing performs the commandment. What connection does this have to the Talmud? It’s simply utter nonsense, yes, that’s clear. Just nonsense. What connection does this have to the Talmud? Perhaps by way of allusion. Yes, so what? So what? Word games like that, allusion and so on. And what are you innovating for me here? What are you innovating? That one needs joy? So say that one needs joy. And what does that have to do with whether the lighting performs the commandment and the placing performs the commandment? What did this allusion add? If one understands it as if that really is what the Talmud means—if not, then I don’t see any value in it, I have no idea. I hope not. But if not, then what is the point of dealing with it at all? What does it add to the discussion? Suppose someone might have thought that joy is not the main thing, or would have thought that if you have no joy then you need not perform commandments at all—those are his two innovations, yes, doubtful innovations. So even suppose someone thinks that—now he’s convinced? Because it says “the lighting performs the commandment” and “the placing performs the commandment,” and since lighting is enthusiasm, then the Talmud says that one must do it joyfully, and even if there is no joy one must still do it. If I wasn’t convinced of that to begin with, then this argument would not convince me of anything either. And if I am already convinced of it, then why are you saying it? Are you speaking to someone who is already convinced? What are these games? It’s just games, really. I simply can’t understand it. It’s a support-text from the Talmud. A support-text for what? For something trivial. Why does it need a support-text? What did I learn from here? That one needs to perform commandments and needs to rejoice—let’s suppose that’s a nice innovation. And that even when one isn’t joyful, one still needs to perform commandments? Is that what you came to teach me? That requires support-texts? Why do I need support-texts in order to know that I need to keep commandments? What is the meaning of this whole thing? And everyone, when they read it, gets all enthusiastic and so on. Later, when we spoke there, I said that in my eyes this thing is utter nonsense. So there was a woman there who had dealt a little with matters of Hasidism, one of those who do deal with it, and she said: what do you mean, this has tremendous value. For example—I don’t know—suppose my son is in some terrible depression or something like that. I studied this passage with him and it brought him joy and got him back into things. First of all, I don’t understand why this passage brings joy to anyone. When I see it, it only irritates me. But no, really, I don’t understand why—how this brings… but fine, I accept that there are apparently people to whom this brings joy. But if it brings you joy, does that mean it is Torah study? Take a pill; that’ll also bring you joy. Take an LSD pill and you’ll also be high. So what does that mean? No, it’s not just joy. What? What? But it’s not just any joy. It’s a joy that will awaken you to rejoice in the commandments. Fine, the pill will also help you rejoice in the commandments. If you take a pill, there are people whom it puts into the right sort of trance and they’ll do lots of commandments. This is exactly what I spoke about in the post regarding the therapeutic value this has, meaning: I don’t deny that there are people to whom this apparently speaks very deeply, and I don’t know, it contributes to them, even insights, not only moods. Yes, but not everything that instills insights in you is study. Rather what? Sometimes it’s something that can help you psychologically, can help you in the service of God, everything is fine. It may be that these are things of value, unrelated, but why is this Torah study? What does it have to do with Torah study? If I take a pill to get out of depression and then I’ll perform commandments with greater enthusiasm, did I study Torah when I took the pill? No. It’s an instrument for a commandment, and I’m not belittling that—it’s important. If it helps someone, then by all means let him do it. But how does one turn that into Torah study? Why does it have anything to do with Torah study? But isn’t studying ethics Torah study? It doesn’t seem so to me, most of it at least. It gives enthusiasm—not the argument, not the innovations about what one is supposed to do. I don’t see in it any connection to Torah. By the way, on this point I’m really in very good company. There were major polemics about the study of ethics, and even those who argued in favor of studying ethics—I don’t know how many of them claimed that it was Torah study. Rather, they argued that it was important because it is important in the service of God to improve your morality. Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin speaks about this in Nefesh HaChaim, Gate 4. He speaks about the relation between fear of God and study. So he says that fear of God is building the storehouse—“the fear of the Lord is His storehouse.” Fear of God is the storehouse or warehouse into which you put the grain, and the grain is the study. But fear of God is not study. Now, does that mean fear of God is unimportant or worthless? No, absolutely not. There is a commandment of fear of God, one of the 613 commandments. But not everything of value is Torah study. And on this point—that is, how do you turn such a thing into study? I don’t understand. I truly don’t understand it. And this is the passage she chose to demonstrate where I’m wrong. For me, it was really evidence to the contrary. Fine. And what does it have to do with the Talmud? On whom does this even work, really? I can’t understand. Yes, and on many people. It works on many people, but I can’t understand it. Obviously it works on many, but I can’t understand it. It has nothing to do with the Talmud. It’s obvious to everyone that it has no connection whatsoever to the Talmud’s intention, the Talmud’s meaning, nothing, no connection. So you found some sort of affinity between “lighting” and “enthusiasm,” and “placing” and “rest,” something like that. Therefore “put on tefillin,” where the meaning is: put on tefillin when you are in a stage of rest, not enthusiasm. “Put on tefillin” means put on tefillin. What? I don’t understand these childish little interpretations. For whom is this… what meaning do they have at all? Why is this of value? I cannot understand. It has value precisely for all the people who don’t think. It’s exactly for the critical mass of people. I don’t know, maybe. I admit that people find a lot of satisfaction in this. You mean people who think? Don’t think. Those are the ones I mean. Most human beings do not think. No, but I’m saying—look, for example, the woman, Olesh Goldberg, who wrote there—she’s impressive. What she wrote in that response, I was very impressed by it. She knows what she’s talking about, meaning she’s a thinking person. And there are people who have made this into some sort of worldview, an ideology, and in my eyes it’s completely detached. Now true, this gives some kind of answer to certain people—and fine, good health—but I’m talking about the avant-garde that leads this process: what is it doing there? It’s precisely gathering those people so they won’t go somewhere else. You mean righteous men, a Hasidic rebbe gathering those people? What, a rebbe doesn’t know everything we know? Okay. Didn’t Rabbi Nachman of Breslov gather all those people around him and promise them…? You’re optimistic. I’m not sure. I have a son in the Makor Chaim yeshiva, and there they take the elite, all the cream of the crop, and teach them that this is the main thing—Breslov Hasidism and so on. That’s just how it is. Because fine, the one doing this to them is precisely… I come to a parents’ Sabbath at Makor Chaim, and the head of the yeshiva gives a class. Fine? In the class the head of the yeshiva teaches some story of Rabbi Nachman—I don’t remember which story, some story. Fine, three-quarters of an hour was already devoted to it. A story that looks like plain words, two sides of a page. Fine, he starts reading the first line. Well, what do you think? Okay, they answer. Fine. After three-quarters of an hour, we got to the end of the page. There isn’t even a story there, that’s it. We didn’t even get to the end, and what happened, happened. There’s no ethics, no this—the main thing is that we studied Torah. Sometimes there are lessons there that I think can indeed be meaningful. But we didn’t even reach the end of the story, not that we continued it afterward. The Rabbi uses that story of the rabbi of Berditchev who saw that Jew repairing that… It’s exactly the same thing, and there you know. At first glance it really does look like some story. I’m not sure most people understood it the way the Rabbi really did; I’m sure they understood it the other way. What I’m saying is that one can learn meaningful things from a story too. Certainly. No, I’m saying, but for the Hasidim this thing is… Rabbi, how many things does one have to gather with the intellect? Look, the original Hasidim, when they study Hasidism, they don’t study it this way. It’s something else. They don’t study it this way. Some of them truly study, and there are meaningful things there. This new existentialist kind of study that finds in everything meaning and experiences and psychology and all these things—in my eyes, that is taking things out of their meaning. Where does Torah study end? What was the example then—that if a rabbi goes to deal with a passage about electricity on the Sabbath, and now spends two years in a laboratory in order to understand the principles of the physics, is he studying Torah in the laboratory? No. In my opinion that’s an instrument for a commandment. But in that laboratory, the five minutes when he’s checking it in relation to the passage—is that Torah study, and the rest of the experiment is not? No, the experiment itself is an instrument for a commandment, not Torah study. It is very important, I’m not saying it isn’t. I’m asking: if you deal all day with an important passage that is important for you to understand, isn’t that Torah study? Where does understanding end? Eating breakfast is also important, because without it you won’t be able to concentrate on study. You eat breakfast so that you’ll be able to study, so that too is an instrument for the commandment of study. What’s the difference between that and doing an experiment? No, when someone is dealing with some passage he wants to study about the Sabbath, whether something is permitted or forbidden on the Sabbath, that is certainly Torah study. The question is how much of the experiment is still Torah study if he needs a year to learn it. None of the experiment. Only each time he asks whether this is a primary category of labor or not? The normative aspect is Torah; the factual aspect is not Torah. We once spoke about the presumption that “a person does not pay before the due date,” right? If today people do pay before the due date, then what does that mean? That you can read page 5 in Bava Batra and throw it in the trash? Because it’s no longer relevant today. People think that what we learn from the Talmud there is the presumption that a person does not pay before the due date. That’s nonsense. What we learn from the Talmud there is that a presumption can extract money. Right—that not only two witnesses can extract money, but a presumption can extract money, even though it says “by the testimony of two witnesses a matter shall stand.” Now, which presumption is valid and which isn’t? Fine. In their time the presumption was that a person does not pay before the due date; perhaps today the presumption is that a person does pay before the due date. It doesn’t matter. That’s only the medium through which we transmit. When you study the passage there in Bava Batra, when you study the fact that a person does not pay before the due date, you have not studied Torah. That is not Torah. It’s a fact that prevailed in their day and perhaps today is no longer true, or perhaps still is—doesn’t matter. It can change. The Torah in it is what you do with that fact—that’s the norm. The norm means that if there is a presumption, it can extract money. That is Torah. And that always remains; it doesn’t change—that a presumption can extract money. The whole question is only when there is a presumption and what kind of presumption there is—that belongs to the factual realm. Go to the psychology department and they’ll tell you how people behave. That’s a question for psychology, not for Torah. That’s too narrow a reduction of the concept of Torah study. Any time you’re dealing with it in the right direction and investing effort for the right purpose… And if I studied Torah and didn’t reach the correct conclusions? Then I completely wasted my time? No, that’s something else. Incorrect conclusions are something else. That’s how I understood that Talmud passage until I met the Rabbi; it was obvious to me. Then you didn’t understand it correctly; you didn’t study the Talmud. If you were engaged in binding tractate Bava Batra, is that Torah study? I meant binding the book. Why? That too is engagement with the book. I studied the passage and didn’t understand it that way. Fine, so I’m saying, here in my view, correct. If what you learned from the passage—again, not every mistake in study means it wasn’t Torah study. If you reached the conclusion that a presumption does not extract money from that passage, you made a mistake, but you studied Torah. You erred in the passage and studied Torah; you simply reached an incorrect conclusion. But if what you learned from the passage was the psychological fact that a person does not pay before the due date, then you simply did not extract the relevant things from the passage; you extracted from it a psychological assumption about human beings. A psychological assumption about human beings is not Torah; it’s psychology. Torah is the question of what one does, what is permitted and forbidden, what is binding, what the monetary laws are—that is Torah. The psychology—you of course need it. You need to determine how people behave in order to know how to apply it. Like scientific facts. Yes, exactly. It’s like that scientific experiment. There are also experiments in psychology—check how human beings behave. But what does that have to do with Torah? It’s an instrument for a commandment. And again I say—not because it isn’t important. It can be very important. I’m speaking categorically: it’s not called Torah study. Everything can be important. It’s important to study psychology even not for Torah, just because a person wants to understand how human beings function. Fine too, completely legitimate, even if it’s not used for halakhic ruling. But that still doesn’t turn it into Torah study. Not everything of value is Torah study. That’s one point. And two: I think that many of the things there are not of value at all—that’s another issue. To the extent that one can even call this thing study at all. I said there—she said there—Leah Goldberg said that… the Baal Shem Tov also taught through stories and various such things. But it depends what one does with the story. Meaning, if you read a story and let it affect you like a poem—once we spoke about what a poem is—then you have not studied. It is not study. Meaning, in the end insights were implanted in you, yes, let’s say you derived things, but that is not called a process of study. A person can have insights implanted in him in very many ways, even from engaging in… You wrote that in one of the comments there. Yes, yes. Meaning, therefore people make a mistake. They think that every time I come out with some additional intellectual cargo, that means I studied. No, I don’t agree. You can call it “I learned,” that’s a matter of definition, but I’m saying: that’s not what I call study in this context. Torah study is when it passes through cognition. You say something, and I think about it, define the concept, analyze it, internalize it, agree, disagree, doesn’t matter, and reach my own conclusions. That is called studying. If someone were to hypnotize me and put the entire Torah into me, and afterward I would know the entire Torah—did I study Torah? No. Even though after that process the entire Torah is inside me. Because study does not mean merely accumulating information. Obviously in study you also need to accumulate information, but the question is what you do in order for the information to accumulate. If it is done to you, then it is not study. If you do it, it is study. Someone here said no, not right, not like the Rabbi. What? Not right—why? A person can sit and review and review and… No, review is perfectly fine, by the way. Review is fine. That is study? Certainly. Breadth study and in-depth study—both are definitely study. Reviewing is your work. You read something, understand it, remember it, absorb it, and move on. You don’t have to philosophize over it for two days in order for it to count as study. But you have to be the learner. If I put it into your head, then you come out with all the breadth that a breadth learner comes out with—and much more. Under hypnosis you’ll remember everything; in study one forgets. Okay, but you did not study Torah. You cannot recite the blessing over Torah before you go to sleep with the hypnosis. Why not? In the end you have a lot of Torah inside you after it’s over. Not every time you have insights afterward does that mean that you underwent a process of study. Understand? Now, a story, a poem, and so on—these are things that can teach us. Meaning, people derive from them various lessons and insights, no doubt. But that is not called study. When I read fine literature, I derive a great many insights from it. But if I do not work reflectively on the matter—that is, if I don’t think about the story, analyze what happened in it, and then the insights are created in me—but rather the reading of the story creates things in me, it works on me. “Works” not in the sense of tricking me, but rather I am acted upon by it—that is not study. But if I do use cognition and analyze a story, that is study, but not Torah study. No, if you analyze a story—what? A story in the Talmud, say—you analyze it? No, no, not in the Talmud—a story by Agnon. If I analyze it as literary analysis. Literary analysis? Yes. I also don’t think that is study. It can bring you all sorts of insights that might perhaps also help you in a Torah context, I don’t know. But on the face of it, certainly not in the object itself. Even that is not study in the object itself. Yes, completely agree. I said more than that. I claim that even the aggadic passages of the Talmud are not. They aren’t either. What study is there in that? So what if it’s bound up inside the Menaram, the Menarom, in the volumes of the Talmud? If you learn something of Torah from it, then fine. But things so that one should learn from them—fine. I’m saying, if you learn something from them, then fine. But if you read those stories, study them for breadth as stories—what did you learn there? That the ducks went there and did this, and Rabbah bar bar Hannah jumped there and did that? Is that Torah study? I don’t think so. Someone who studies it with the Maharsha—that is study. What… I’m saying, if you learn from these things the meanings, the Torah lessons—agreed. But if you study—it’s the word of God, not the will of God. That’s Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin; we spoke about this once. Fine, but even that is study. There is a special innovation that even this is called study. But all that is when you are studying. But if you read this story and say that in some mystical way it acts on you and repairs your soul wonderfully—but you are not studying. It’s like taking a pill that also in some mystical or non-mystical way does something. Maybe it has value, but it isn’t study. Maybe it has value too—irrelevant—but it’s not study. Study means a cognitive process. It is a process in which you work, you think about it, you internalize. Breadth or depth—again, I don’t think only philosophers study, absolutely not. I’m not talking right now about depth versus breadth—that is not the point. Rather, the distinction is between study that I do and study that is done to me. If the study is done to me, then it is not study, even though I can derive insights from it, as I said before. Unlike the pill, Rabbi, that a person takes… What? Not true—why? Every study acts on you. I don’t know whether a person performs on himself this defined process the Rabbi is talking about. But every time you sit and study some passage… it acts on you. The subconscious also works when you are not working. Of course. Therefore I say: it acts on you, but that is not study. When you study a passage in the Talmud, in Jewish law… A Talmudic passage is also like that? You study the presumption that a person does not pay before the due date, and you are impressed by this nice story, and therefore it does all sorts of nice things to you? No, but you know… Or now I need to connect that one with this? Wait, you are not studying. You are not studying; rather they are doing this thing to you. You receive insights. You know, things just occur to a person. There’s nothing from which you don’t receive insights; even when you sleep you get insights—from dreams you get insights. So are dreams Torah study too? I don’t know if you learned something, but all this cognition… I’m studying Kitzur Shulchan Arukh now, learning laws. Is that not Torah study? Certainly it is. Oh, that certainly is. Certainly. What do you mean? You study the laws, you ask what this halakhic meaning is, you internalize it, and now you know the law—that is study in every respect, study in the finest sense. I’m not talking about that. That’s why I said: this is not a question of breadth versus depth, that is not the point at all. Both breadth study and in-depth study are study. There is neglect of Torah in quality, yes? Those yeshiva stories where they say, “One interrupts Torah study in order to read the Megillah”—you know, the famous question is: what, why is that called interrupting Torah study? Isn’t reading the Megillah Torah? No. So the answer is: no, it is interruption of Torah study in quality. Instead of studying the Megillah, you could have studied Ketzot. What do you mean? Why did you waste time on the Megillah? But fine, there is a novelty that one interrupts Torah study in order to read the Megillah. That’s a Hasidic little interpretation, of course—the real meaning, a Hasidic little interpretation by Lithuanians. Meaning, the plain meaning is not that you interrupt Torah study to read the Megillah; the intention is that you go to read the Megillah and on the way you aren’t studying anything, yet nevertheless, even though you are interrupting Torah study, you should do it in order to read the Megillah. Not that reading the Megillah itself is interruption of Torah study. It seems to me that is not the plain meaning of that Talmudic passage. But it doesn’t matter that it’s not the plain meaning of that Talmudic passage; the conclusion is correct, that it is interruption of Torah study in quality. Fine, since we’ve already entered this issue of these kinds of things. Yes, no, fine. You see, I brought the page because I knew there was a chance this would come up here. There was another passage on this page—since we’re already talking, there was another passage on this page. She also brought something else there from the Bnei Yissaschar, which is other kinds of passages in Hasidism, which aren’t simple Hasidism. Fine, there are things there—you can study them, there is an idea, all fine—but why is that Hasidism? Meaning, she spoke about, for example, exactly what you said before: if I learn something mistaken, did I study Torah or not? So the Bnei Yissaschar claims yes—that this is the value of Torah as opposed to other wisdoms: even when you learn something that is not correct in terms of absolute truth, but that is your conclusion, then you studied Torah. And in fact already in the Sages there are different versions in this midrash: “Whatever an experienced student will one day innovate”—there are versions that say “whatever a student will mistakenly innovate, the Holy One, blessed be He, showed Moses at Sinai.” Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin also brings these things. So I say: when you say such a thing, why is that Hasidism? Because it is in a book written by a rabbi? When I speak about Hasidic teachings, I mean the character of the teaching, not who said it. A Hasidic rabbi may say an excellent teaching—everything is fine—it’s just not a Hasidic teaching. The Pnei Menachem would say this. Not everything a rebbe says is a Hasidic teaching. So this is another kind of teaching from which I think one must be careful not to draw conclusions, because those teachings are not Hasidism. You know, the Arugot HaBosem writes this too. I wrote this—I once said in that lecture on Rabbi Shagar’s book, Tablets and Broken Tablets, about postmodernism. Yes, no, when I spoke about it then I was speaking about postmodern literature, and I said that in postmodern writing, in a postmodern book like the books of Rabbi Shagar, there are two components. One component is meaningful ideas that can be translated into modern language, and the use of postmodern language is simply intellectual laziness. You know—everything—you’re too lazy to define things fully, so you prefer to jump to the “vacated space” and the “shell of Amalek” and all kinds of things like that instead of saying what you mean. You think it sounds nicer that way. Fine. Okay. But in my eyes that is usually intellectual laziness—that’s one component. And the second component is nonsense; that is, everything else that is not of that sort is nonsense. And the value of a postmodern book is simply the question of how much of the first component it contains. Meaning, if the first component is substantial within the book, then the book has value because there are enough things in it that are not postmodern and that give it the value it has, okay? In that sense I say the same thing also about Hasidism. Meaning, there are Hasidic books, and I assume—I don’t know them well enough—but I assume there are not a few things in them that definitely have value. I just assume that most of them—I don’t know if all, but many—are things that can be translated into a language in which Maimonides could also have said them, or someone far from the world of Hasidic thought and terminology. And many of the other things—again, I’m careful not to say all, because here I don’t think it’s all, unlike postmodernism—but many of the other things really are nonsense, everything that cannot be translated into such a language… So therefore not everything written in a Hasidic book is Hasidism. But when I speak about studying Hasidism, I mean when Hasidim study Hasidism, not when people study the writings of Hasidic rebbes. One can study the writings of Hasidic rebbes that are just a piece of Torah of a different kind—there’s nothing Hasidic about it. So that proves nothing for our matter. Absurdity in the extreme. What? Yes, exactly—absurdity in the extreme. Hasidism is not absurdity in the extreme, in my view at least. Okay. “Let sins cease, but not sinners,” as it were—let Hasidism cease, but not Hasidim. Meaning, the Hasidim are fine; it’s just the Hasidism that is problematic. Fine. No, there… look, I said, I mentioned there too that, say, Chabad is an exception on this issue. Despite my lack of sympathy for that group, there are very beautiful things there, and definitely real study. Once I saw—someone already mentioned this—we spoke about it, I saw a collection of essays that came out in Tomchei Temimim of Kfar Chabad. All the yeshivot are called Tomchei Temimim. They were written by yeshiva students, young guys—I don’t know how old, 17, 18, 20—guys learning there in yeshiva. Beautiful things. Beautiful things. Really. Well organized—you can see they define things properly. Real study. Not all kinds of existentialist hallucinations—what does this mean to me, and how will this save me from depression, and all sorts of things like that—but truly analyzing concepts, defining things. I was really impressed by what I saw there. It was very impressive. Chabad Hasidism—in the writings of Chabad, I think that is not typical Hasidism, it seems to me. There is a story I saw that once the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe said a teaching at the third Sabbath meal and explained that an innocuous ox corresponds to the good inclination, and an ox forewarned to gore corresponds to the evil inclination. And there were students there from New York, from Brooklyn, who came in on Sunday to the yeshiva and told Rabbi Akiva Eiger. He said that in his view it was outright heresy to say that that is what the Talmud means. What did he think he meant—that there is no such thing as an innocuous ox and an ox forewarned to gore? What are you… Yes, what? If the Chabad rebbe had an innocuous ox brought before him, would he not impose half-damages? An innocuous ox is an ox with two horns. The first time, I assume, he would impose half-damages. He attaches further parallel meanings to it. There’s no need to call that teaching heresy. It shouldn’t stay there, let’s put it that way. I don’t think he means to take the Talmud out of its plain meaning. First of all, even if he did mean to take the Talmud out of its plain meaning, I don’t know if that would be heresy—mistake, whatever. But I don’t think he means to say that that plain halakhic issue isn’t there. The same is true, by the way, of the Kedushat Levi—I don’t think he means to say that he did not also study the Talmud in the way we study it. “If it went out, it does not require relighting,” whether the lighting performs the commandment or the placing performs the commandment. I assume that when he studied the Talmud, he also studied it in the way we study it: the lighting performs the commandment, the placing performs the commandment, with the practical differences, everything fine. Here this is the Hasidic sphere—that is, he is relating to it in parallel. But I’m saying that in my eyes this adds nothing; it only detracts. Very good. Heresy? I wouldn’t make it heresy. He was only translating it for his people. No, it’s not translation. No, here it doesn’t translate anything; it removes the things from their meaning entirely. Is that translation? It’s distortion. Why is this attributed specifically to Hasidism? I mean, I would define it as homiletics. Homiletics has always existed. Doesn’t the Baal HaTurim on the Torah also do such things? No, the Baal HaTurim on the Torah—first of all, I also have reservations about the Baal HaTurim, or about the value of the method the Baal HaTurim uses. But this is a mode of thought. You know a mode of thought—neither Hasidic nor non-Hasidic—a mode of thought that is not legitimate. Because within the same book there can be correct things, but there is a mode of thought that is not legitimate. And this mode of thought is the modern way Hasidism is studied today—the modern way. The modern study of Hasidism today—even Chabad, when people study it today, they don’t study it the way they do in Tomchei Temimim. They study it existentially: what does it say about meanings and all sorts of subjective things. So they are not studying it as Torah study; they are studying it as ethics. So I say: if that’s how they study it, then fine, I have no argument. In my correspondence there I wrote that it is not Torah study—that was my main claim. To what extent it has value is a different question. It’s like: what do you do with it. Many times, by the way, these are also things whose conclusions themselves are trivial. I was thinking not long ago—I was somewhere for the Sabbath, and someone asked me: how many years did Jacob work for Rachel until he got Rachel? Seven. Seven years and a week, no? Right? Not 14. Amazing. Seven years. He already worked. Yes. Meaning, he got Rachel after seven years, and then the count is that he worked seven years. So I didn’t notice that when I read it, and it’s actually in Rashi, but I didn’t notice it. Someone asked me, said: here, look—it really is seven years and not 14. Wow, that really was interesting. And afterward I thought: what did I learn here? So I learned that Jacob worked seven years for Rachel and not fourteen. And therefore what? What does that mean? The plain meaning? Yes, the plain meaning in the Torah. Okay, but what did that help me with? What, he worked seven years and she was barren? I don’t know. I would learn from it that if you deal with a wicked person, that’s how you’ll ask for payment in cash. That’s the conclusion. But I know that even without the Torah. So what do you mean? But why does one have to derive something else from it? Is that what Torah study is? No, I understand. The question is the plain meaning of the Torah. The question is how much something like that really teaches you. So I say: in the context of Torah, okay, the Torah has some kind of holiness in the object itself. The Holy One, blessed be He, wrote this thing. When I study what is written there, I am studying Torah, even though it does not add much to my spiritual world, my intellectual world, I don’t know exactly what. Fine. And that is a matter of Torah. Yes, and not practical either. But the Kedushat Levi does not have a parallel holiness. Meaning, when I study the Kedushat Levi and I study things on that level—then what? It’s nothing. Meaning, in the Torah there is a novelty: even when one studies only the facts described there, and discusses and analyzes them, fine, there is a value there of Torah study. I don’t understand why, but that’s how it is—God said it. But people do the same thing with other texts as well, and in my eyes it is simply irrelevant to other texts. Meaning, they have no value unless they teach you something. Otherwise what—for what purpose are you studying them? Fine. We’re in matters of messianism. Maybe there is some connection between these things; I don’t know. But last time we spoke a bit about—wow—authority with respect to facts, and with respect to principles of faith. And that was the context in which the discussion of messianism appears, because belief in the coming of the messiah, like other beliefs—all of Maimonides’ principles are beliefs whose subject matter is facts. Meaning, unlike halakhic norms, here we are speaking about facts. Now, these facts are not always facts that can be observed with the eyes. Usually they are not. Whether the Holy One, blessed be He, exercises providence, whether the messiah will come, whether the Torah was given from heaven, or whether all the traditions were preserved afterward—all these are factual questions. Either the Holy One, blessed be He, exercises providence or He doesn’t; either the messiah will come or he won’t come; either the supervisor will come or the supervisor won’t come. Yes? So fine, all these are factual questions. Even if we cannot observe them empirically, and therefore the question essentially arises to what extent authority is relevant in this type of matter—that is, with respect to facts. Okay, that’s essentially what we discussed last time. And I began a little to deal with this issue of messianism and false messianism, because in a certain sense the discussion really is a factual discussion. When you speak about someone who is or is not the messiah, that’s factual. He either is the messiah or he isn’t. Maybe you don’t always have clear indications in order to decide yes or no. But in the final analysis, it’s factual.